


Morning Routine Redux

by theterrorofknowing



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Brotp, Gen, friendship or potentially more depending on how you want to take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theterrorofknowing/pseuds/theterrorofknowing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny is not happy that a certain Mike Warren does not properly appreciate the art of the day-off. Charlie and Mike share a breakfast conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Routine Redux

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try creative writing again so this is my first proper fanfic ever - please bear that in mind! This is mainly just me playing around to try to get Mike and Charlie's voices sorted in my own head in the hope of writing more complex/plot-driven stuff in the future. I would welcome any/all feedback!

Another glorious day of Californian sunshine filtered in through the glass front of the beachfront property that was ‘Graceland’, creating inviting sun-soaked patches of warmth on the patterned rug over which a set of bare feet now walked across. It was 7am on a Friday morning and Mike Warren had a day off after a week-long dangerous dance around the fringes of Briggs’ latest op. He’d still risen, like clockwork, at 6am and quickly headed out for his perfunctory early morning run on the beach, free day or not.

Now freshly showered and dressed, Mike had barely taken his seat at the kitchen island across from a discreetly yawning Charlie when a disgruntled Johnny shuffled past, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl between them, clearly in a rush to leave the house. He did, however, take the time to pause meaningfully and turn to the rookie agent. “Why the freaking hell were you up at 6 o’clock, man? Enjoy the lie-in, don’t even set your alarm! Snooze, make some pancakes, watch some shit on the TV, go catch some waves or something. Why you gotta be so damn disciplined? Enjoy the day off!” Johnny advised with a shake of his head in disapproval at how incapable Mike seemed to be at doing the ‘day off’ thing. As far as he was concerned, the idea of a free day was completely wasted on the likes of Levi and Johnny hated to see such a good thing go to waste in the hands of someone who just _couldn’t_ relax and properly let go. He turned his back on the kitchen, crossing to the front door with his head still shaking in disappointment. He threw Charlie and Mike the obligatory casual backwards wave and then left the house for a case.

The door slammed shut. “Good morning to you too,” the remaining man mumbled wryly.

Charlie nudged a glass of orange juice over the counter to Mike, “Ignore him, he’s just messing. Johnny thinks 10 o’clock in the morning is a felony on a free day,” she commented matter-of-factly, “Mainly he’s just pissed that you were showering just as usual at 6:45 on the dot when he wanted to as well. He hit snooze, counting on the bathroom being free like 20 minutes before he would need to leave, on account on you being off the clock today and all.”

Mike ran a hand over his face in disbelief; fighting over the bathroom in the morning, had they _really_ come to this? He let out a breathy laugh, “This really is like being in college all over again, you know.”

“Huh. Not in all ways, I’ll bet,” she grinned easily and he couldn’t help but echo her smile as he pulled his box of cereal towards him and poured himself out a bowl for breakfast.

He was halfway to the fridge to retrieve some milk when Charlie, her gaze lingering over his bowl, joked lightly, “Krave. Huh. Now, I had you down as an All-Bran kind of guy.”

He raised his arms in a shrugging gesture, “Well, I’m clearly a lot more mysterious than you give me credit for,” he suggested as he topped his cereal with milk and replaced the carton back in the fridge, shutting it to as he continued to speak, “Which I keep hearing is a good thing in this line of work, yeah?”

The woman scoffed coolly, tossing her head back with this gesture. “You _are_ learning from Briggs.”

They soon fell into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional sound of Mike’s spoon clinking quietly against the bowl as he finished his breakfast or the stray crumbs of Charlie’s pastry gently rustling against the bakery paper bag which had contained it. It was on mornings like this that Mike truly appreciated Graceland and its inhabitants, Charlie especially. He felt comfortable, at ease, around her and she always seemed to know when to leave the matter and when to push the issue. She was clearly well adept at welcoming new people into the household and looking after their ‘merry band of misfits’, as Briggs had so lovingly dubbed them all. He briefly wondered how many rookies she’d seen travel through the house and whether she had unwittingly fulfilled the Mama Bear role for all of them too.

These were questions that he swallowed down and never came close to voicing, unless they were lit by the flickering light of a fire on the beach. Sometimes, when the rest of the house’s inhabitants were distracted by their own chatter or dancing to the soft music emanating from Jakes’ radio a little way away, Charlie and Mike found themselves resting against one another, the picture of easy friendship. There was a casually slung arm around the other’s shoulders, or a hand playfully jabbing at the other’s side because of their mischievous insinuation, or perhaps even a head resting softly across a lap and a hand roving upwards to reposition the other person’s arm protectively across their reposing body. Then Mike’s faltering voice would start to ask her something real as he gazed down at her curiously, a look entirely unseen since her eyes were momentarily closed in contentment as Charlie savoured the rare moment of calm and utter stillness. It usually wasn’t too long before Briggs stumbled back across the sand to them, playfully calling Mike out for his latest screw-up. Then the moment of connection was broken and they were both brought back to the present, the walls simultaneously reconstructed, the restful head drawn back up and out of the lap swiftly.

“Why do you do it anyway?” Charlie finally piped up, her tone inquisitive as she swallowed the last mouthful of sinful buttery goodness.

Mike had to take a moment to readjust to the present and he blinked in confusion down at his cereal until he was sure he had completely done so. “Why do I do what exactly? The running? The alarm clock? The non-‘day off’?”

“All of the above.”

“Okay, the first point, I don’t know, I’ve done always done it wherever I’ve been. Back at Quantico it was hitting the gym early morning, it was the time it was the most quiet. Here… I don’t know, it seems stupid to spend an hour on a treadmill when there’s all _that_ on our doorstep,” he broke off, his right arm raised to gesture out at the beach through the house’s windowed front.

“So you like the beach after all, huh? We converting you to the ways of West Coast living?” she lightly ribbed him. He had looked every bit the East Coast-er when he’d shown up that very first day at Graceland – he hadn’t even possessed a pair of flip flops, something which Charlie found endearing in the most odd way. He really had been a fish out of water. Ever since then Johnny and Briggs had made an effort to show the kid the ropes of SoCal living which, from what she gathered from the tail-end of their conversations when they all tumbled back into the house after a day at the beach, consisted mostly of schooling Mike in the ways of the waves and the ways of women. She wasn’t entirely sure how successful their mission was, or how much Mike really needed their particular type of ‘tuition’.

“You’re definitely trying,” Mike let out a chuckle and shook his head, “But your second point? I don’t like wasting the mornings, it makes me feel like I’ve wasted most of the day. And your third point? Well… I’ve always had a hard time accepting the idea of a ‘day off’, I guess I just don’t really do the vegging thing?” he shrugged easily, swallowing his last mouthful of cereal thickly. It wasn’t the half of it (the real explanation behind his drive and ambition would take much longer than a casual breakfast-table conversation)  and he knew it and so did Charlie, but she let it slide, instead nudging the orange juice carton closer to him as if inviting him to take some more.

He pushed his empty bowl away, picking up the offered drink and only then did he see the initials scrawled onto the other side of the carton, the side which she had blatantly hidden from him earlier. “Charlie,” he fixed her with a deeply disappointed look, “This says D.J.!”

She licked the last of a pastry crumb from her finger, irritatingly calm in her manner. “Yeah, so…?”

“First Johnny dropping me in it with Jakes, now you. That’s cold,” he remarked, placing both hands on the counter as if to push himself up and away from it, leaving her there.

“Me? No. No, I’m not even here right now, and neither are you. But you know who _was_ here a half hour ago and swigged accidentally from that marked carton because he was too busy grumbling about not being able to get in the bathroom because ‘the new kid is busy preening himself or somethin’, man’ to actually check it for Jakes’ initials?”

Mike looked between the juice, Charlie, and the door Johnny had exited through. “Ouch, you handed it over to him on a purpose, didn’t you? You’re evil.”

“Well…” she shrugged easily, “Boy shouldn’t be distracted by ragging on the new kid so much, interrupting his showers, getting up in his grill about how he chooses to spend his free days, you know?” she met his gaze, her mouth curling upwards into a smile as his did automatically too, into that adorable puppy-dog grin that Charlie swore must have gotten him out of more scrapes than he would ever even know. She hoped she’d never see a time when that smile faded from Mike’s face entirely. “Look Mike, you know I love ya and you’ve got an awesome attitude but… Johnny is kinda right, though god help me, rules or no rules, I _will_ shoot you if that ever gets back to him. You gotta learn to take it easy every once in a while. Throw a ball around, go waste an afternoon sitting in a coffee shop, go see a crappy movie. It’s useful to have some kind of balance and you don’t need to feel guilty about having a free day; they make us take ‘em for good reason.”

He looked up at this and in that moment Mike knew what Charlie was saying wasn’t _just_ about making sure he got some fresh air in his lungs or wasted an afternoon playing volleyball on the beach or something. It was about maintaining some level of normalcy whenever not ‘on the clock’, read the latest NY Times best-seller, go see the latest box office hit, shoot some hoops with some friends, anything that was escapist and not in any way connected to the Bureau or the perilous situations they put themselves in every day for the sake of their job.

Considering her properly now, he clocked the subtle shadows of her eyelids, the faint glassy tinge to her otherwise gentle eyes, her dark hair tangled more than its naturally curly self – all of which betrayed a night of uneasy sleep. He’d heard her mentioning some trouble with one of her CIs to Briggs a couple of days before and the man had seemed regretful but strict when he’d told her to ditch the guy before he got her into trouble. Mike had been standing in the hallway when she’d stalked from Briggs’ room, frustration and distress written all over her features, but she had barely acknowledged him but to caution, “Leave it,” in case he got any ideas about trying to go all boy scout on her and want to ‘help fix it’ somehow.

He didn’t say any of what was flashing through his mind then nor did he _need_ to express anything of the weight of the last few days bearing on his mind. Charlie understood. As much as she might try to hide it beneath messing with Johnny or joking around with Paige, Mike could see the understanding written in her expression; she carried a hell of a weight on her shoulders, a lot of it needlessly. She needed to take her own advice just as much as he did. So he simply nodded to her suggestions, “Yeah, ‘all work and no play’, right?” he finished the thought.

“You got it,” Charlie confirmed as she lithely hopped down from the bar stool and scrunched the paper bag up, dropping it in the kitchen bin. “And, hey, if it helps you any, plans for _my_ free day today include a hot date with a ‘Criminal Minds’ marathon, lunch at Hector’s, a little afternoon walk down the beach. Nothing set in stone,” she assured him, fixing him with a faux-serious look, “And I feel like we could help each other out a little bit on the company and ‘not going crazy’ fronts. What’d you say, Warren, you in?”

He knew better than to argue with Charlie. Especially if it involved ‘Criminal Minds’. He inclined his head in an equally convincing show of solemnity, “Yes m’am.” A shared grin.


End file.
